What am I to you?
by adriel bellerose
Summary: AU. "Why did you run away in the first place if you're just going to quit in the end? ...No, I don't believe that's you. I can't. You're something more to me, but I don't know what I am to you."
1. Chapter 1

This fanfiction is preeetty much completely AU, however... hopefully I've made enough references to still leave it comfortable.  
>This is mostly for my own personal goal of actually <em>finishing<em> a story, it'd be great if you guys also enjoyed it!

As a disclaimer, I actually _don't_ own any characters from Adventure Time (even though that would be nice _ohohoho~_).

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><p>It started when she sneaked out that night.<br>It wasn't that often that a girl of her social class decided to leave the little sugar-coated bubble of wealthy prestige, and yet it felt so right to her to just get out for once. It was nighttime, and light poured out of the windows as a dinner party commenced into the late hours.

One glance at her elders seemingly enjoying themselves in drunken stupor and she held down her fear of being caught.

Her parents didn't even _like_ their guests but it was clear that face value meant everything and appearances were to be kept up. She didn't know where she would go, but her legs continued to move around the garden. The aroma of sweet flowers surrounded her as she made her way passed highlighted stone, pavement glistening as if glazed with icing. Her body suddenly halted behind the safety of a rose bush, watching shadows pass by a large window before making her move once more.

There was one step. Two.

Then she burst off, tearing through fresh cut grass and candy-pink colored roses. She breezed through long white fences, past lush fruit trees full with red orbs and out she was, feet on the sidewalk lined with large houses the colors of vanilla cake.

Her hair whipped her face as she turned to take a long, filling gaze of her surroundings, much larger than the extends of her bedroom.

She pursed her lips, and took one more glance at her large cake-colored house.  
>It seemed peaceful on the outside, with everyone inside warm and snug and hating each other without letting everyone else know. Everything was honey glazed, sugary sweet and drowned in maple syrup.<p>

Her mouth bent into a frown, and with that, she left her warm candy kingdom, brave enough to defy her authority, oblivious enough to leave as herself.

She found herself in a town she knew existed but always passed through in the car.

The town was a fair size, and lights lined each building, advertising things you could buy and enjoy. She stuck a hand into the pocket of her sweater, feeling bills. Over five hundred dollars, a small amount worth pennies to her compared to the price of one night of freedom. The expensive touch of the sweater displeased her as she slid her thin fingers out.

Money held value but she never felt rich. Books held more worth to her. Yet even then books eventually became as stale as day-old bread. Books were consistent, always there, never changing. Cold.

Continuing the walk down, her large eyes took in everything, observing, gathering information. Small puffs of air left her mouth, her chest rising and falling as she found herself forgetting to breathe.

Everything was exhilarating, so brand new to the sheltered girl it was almost unbearable. Buildings which caught her eye brought her to the other side of the street, as one in particular seemed to hold her attention.

It was small, colored in a dull blue light and was held in a shallow alleyway between an apartment complex and music store. The door itself held several pictures of nameless faces and dates and numbers. She touched the handle, unsure of entering.

An anxious feeling crossed her mind, as if telling her to go back home, back to where her life was safe and secure. Where she was taught every day the proper lifestyle of a lady. The cake-colored house where everyone smiled sweetly but every bend of lip was empty like an untouched cookie jar.

The blue light flickered, surprising her out of her thoughts, the neon sign which emitted its luminescent glow dictating that she was welcome and this business was open.

She took a sharp breath and turned the door handle, entering The Cave.


	2. Chapter 2

_Oh dear this is a sack of shit._

I'm sorry for such a long wait, I… take a long time when it comes to writing. I, um, had a lot of trouble trying to introduce Marshall.

Please forgive me asfghkjf;l I will try to write the third chapter significantly faster.

But thank you all for the reviews! I'm so happy to know people actually like this, haha.

I screamed when I saw fanart. Fanart! By my favorite artist! So much joy. So much. **I am rambling.** Here we go!

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><p>It seemed like the right idea when she stepped inside the bar. It was small, but charming and warm, with walls covered in music paraphernalia and polaroid pictures. There was a small platform in the back corner, black amps lined its edges and lights hung above, their faces pointed downwards to shine upon whomever took the stage. A lone mic and chair held no company, yet both had years of wear on them.<p>

The smell of good food seemed to cling to her as she took in the surroundings. A swinging kitchen door caught her eye as a waiter slipped out, handing a steaming meal to a customer sitting in one of the various wooden tables. The lighting itself was dim and cozy, it was as if you were revisiting and it was the hundredth time you've came in here. It was a little awkward for her, never having stepped in a bar before. Her interest of this place seemed to grow with every step.

It was probably for the best that she left, but her rebellion refused to die on so early. Despite her pounding heart, she let the door close behind her.

Soft music filtered out of speakers which hung from the walls. People chatted with one another, the occasional laugh erupting every now and then.

Approaching the counter, the dim yellow light overhead revealed her.  
>A young woman, with the face of a sweet doll. Her lavender eyes held a certain aspect of curiosity. Like if you didn't finish a sentence, she would evolve thousands of different conclusions. If you planted the thought that it was possible for everything to be made out of candy, she would worry all day if sugary citizens would be taken care of. A curtain of soft coffee brown hair hung above those eyes, silky strands brushing against the length of her lashes. Longer pieces splayed against her chest, wispy ends barely grazing her small hips. The girl was petite, garbed in her expensive sweater, a thin skirt, leggings, and boots.<p>

From one glance it was easy to see she was overly-educated by the way she held herself as if she were destined for an elegant ballroom instead of a dingy bar. Few people noticed this, glancing at her wonderingly. Anxiety struck her once more. What if she was being too poise? Should she slouch her shoulders? Lower her gaze?

_Oh, no_, she thought. Her heart beat against her chest, as if it were trying to get out and run all the way back home. It was an action she was happy to oblige.

As she began to turn around, she caught a wisp of a word:

"Welcome."

Her body reacted to the greeting, turning this way and that to find its source. Waving fingers caught her eye to the culprit- a youth behind the counter who could not have been a day older than herself.

The bartender greeted her with an enthusiastic grin. His teeth were mostly crooked and misshapen, like he never decided to get braces. Despite that, his mouth was charming, the corners always just ever so slightly turned upward. Messy yellow hair stuck out like thick straw, framing his young, friendly face. The atmosphere around him was impeccably cheerful. She couldn't help but smile back.

"You're new here. It's easy to tell, but a lot of people come back 'cause they like The Cave. Stay for a while, si'down." Big, baby blue eyes twinkled at her with the promise of getting to know this curious blonde.

A thick gulp found itself caught in her throat. She felt shy. Nonetheless, she obeyed, taking a seat on one of the many bar stools. With a quick look at his uniform, she discovered his name was Finn.

"I…" Her voice came out, dryly. She almost blushed. It had been hours since she spoke before, her throat felt like a wilted flower.

"What's your name?"

"Excuse me?" Her words stumbled out thick and coarse. The bartender smiled. His face reminded her of a child she could not place the name upon.

"You've got to have a name, dude. A label, maybe? Something."

"O-oh… yes." She swallowed the lump in her throat, laughing weakly. Pursing her lips, she spoke "Bonnibel."

"Sweet," He laughed softly, a flicker of red against his lightly freckled face "nice to meet you."

Finn set a glass he had been cleaning down on the counter. He turned his back from her for a moment. She shifted awkwardly in her seat.

Her name felt so unfamiliar to her when she introduced herself. It was frequently the reason she avoided starting conversations. She always let her parents introduce her. It didn't belong to her at all, yet the misfortune was that it was still on her birth certificate. It was a constant reminder that she was not like any other. She couldn't help but be embarrassed. It was like expecting strawberry, when someone gave you vanilla. Both sweet, both names. Yet one was one thing, the other was another.

A sudden _clink!_ brought its attention to her.

"You probably like thinking a bunch, don't you?" Finn's voice cut through her, causing her head to raise. His boyish face gleamed down, bright as the sun. "You were spacing out for like, a century."

"Ah… yes." Heat spread across her cheek "It's a bad habit." The blond laughed, pushing something towards her on the counter. "For you."

Bonnibel picked up the drink carefully. Looking at it closer, the liquids inside were clear. Her brow raised cautiously. Finn sputtered

"There isn't any alcohol in it!" He blurted, realizing the confusion. A dusting of red flew over his baby face. " I can't serve that, so it's just water. Jake's the usual bartender but he's sick."

She nodded and brought the drink to her lips, taking a slow sip, gradually draining the glass. It was cold, and it mended her dry throat soothingly. It was surprising, almost to the point of terrifying, how thirsty she was. The water was sugar-sweet against her dry throat, and before she knew it, there was nothing but air inside. A whole glass without water. A hollow shell, she took note of.

If the glass had been filled half way, which way would she look at it? Half full, or half empty?

The girl had barely put the cup down on the counter when the already dull light began to lower into darkness. The music that had once played faded out as well, silencing the soft mumble of conversation in the bar.

Soft white lights burst above the platform stage in the corner of the room. People began to clap and cheer and before she knew it she too found her attention swaying by their reaction. Bonnibel's eyes trailed from the nameless faces to the lone mic and chair she spotted just a moment ago. Those same eyes travelled towards the exit door. She anticipated it to burst open by now, her parents ready to drag her back home into bland, artificial life. The thought made her shutter.

"O-oh, by the way, um…Thank you," With her free hand, she fished through the pocket full of bills. "I know it was just water but… You seem like a nice guy." A slip of paper was placed on the counter before her gaze left him. Finn picked it up, and flinched. He almost dropped the bill, as if the amount burned his fingers.

"Wait, this is fif-" His voice drowned against the sea of the audience. They clapped merrily, some even whistled as an entity found its way towards the stage. Bonnibel looked at Finn one last time for an answer. The blonde, setting the money issue aside for now, shifted awkwardly.

"Oh, it's…" His voiced drawled, as if the answer irked him. "Entertainment. We do this every night. It's not special, he's just-"

"Entertainment…?"

Those innocent, violet eyes lay upon that chair on the platform. Against it now was a guitar, bright cherry red and gleaming.

Just then, the curtains around it seized open violently, the downward faced lights beaming their power onto a single entity.

When you described him plainly, it did not sound like much. A red plaid shirt, dark jeans, sneakers. But trailing up from the rail-thin body to the slim neck and above, everything seemed to halt.

It was like he was the only one she could see.  
>It was strange, she was a good amount away from him but the details were so fine tuned as if time decided to slow down in order to capture this new, interesting being. His face resonated against the light. Carrying his looks was an expression like no other she had ever seen before, hanging underneath the black fringe which swept across his forehead.<p>

It was confidence, self righteousness. A hungry look, as if there was fiery potential inside his gaze that could burn down this little store. It was practically on the verge of mocking, this feeling that the young man on the stage could possess just from looking outwards towards the audience. He was intriguing, it was hard to look away.

The entity had something about him that made her nervous and excited, and yet somewhat depressed. There was no way a guy like that would even give her the time of day. She had the wrong clothes, the wrong overall look, it was embarrassing. The realization bit her bitterly. She began to pick at the sleeve of her sweater. Her mind willed herself not to look at him, and yet-

His eyes flickered. The color of turquoise, bright and aware as they caught her.

Bonnibel's heart froze. He, he was looking straight at her! His stare was piercing, she thought with every fiber of her being that he was reading her thoughts or just completely looking through her. The thought was terrifying.

Yet, he softened, if not for a second. A faint smile grazed his lips, his eyes trailing from her to the crowd. It was almost as if it was a task to look away. Cooly, he threw his body back and gripped at the microphone. The spark in his eye that fueled this stranger's odd charm began to light once more.

"Good evening, and welcome to The Cave,_ everyone_. My name is Marshall Lee."


End file.
